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They’ll have to pin me down. I intend to struggle! Squirm about and kick with my feet.

How awful! They won't want that to happen, will they? That would really upset the executioners and any watching bystanders!
 
Ok - so maybe I shouldn't just spew my undeveloped thoughts at everybody. :) The idea was a society where slaves were just used to the idea that everybody is born from their mother's womb, everybody serves a master, and everybody dies. Masters die in battle or in bed. Slaves die on crosses. And it's so ingrained in their psyche that most don't even question it. (Of course Barb is not most. But we have ways of dealing with her kind.) ;)
 
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So here I go spewing undeveloped thoughts again, but I do find it erotic... We're very accustomed to talking about death being natural, and how everybody has "their time." Whether or not you believe that, it's a very normal, natural way for our society to deal with it. Maybe it's not THAT different for a society like the one I'm imagining to think that every slave has his or her "time." And when it's time, you take the patibulum on your shoulders, follow the soldiers to the street, take off your clothes, and lie down to be crucified. Why fight it? It's natural. It's how slaves die when their time has come.
 
I see nothing wrong with your concepts.

A society where normal is different to ours is good storytelling, as far as I'm concerned.

Post more of these little scenes, there is an audience.
Thanks, Old Slave. And in fact I think I first thought of this idea because I read something in an old Roman text about gallows humor among the slaves, talking about how they'd all end up on crosses. Of course I took it and ran with it - I'm not suggesting real Roman society was the way I described, but there's at least some grain of historicity there. :) "Inspired by true events..."
 
It wasn't my intent to be critical of your scenario, Juan, but it's a question that often comes into my head when I read a story about crucifixion (which I do every now and then). It is said that it was among the most terrible ways to die, which seems like a statement I won't argue with strenuously. So, then, what would someone sentenced to die by crucifixion have had to lose by any act of resistance, whether it's fighting back, refusing to march to the site and having them beat you to death on the spot, suicide, or what have you? What could they do to you that was worse than what they were already going to do to you? Perhaps some (proto CF members) were looking at it as an erotic experience, though I suspect they were a minority. The most famous crucifixee was supposedly making a sacrifice in the name of God, but that was an even smaller minority. So, for most, resistance or suicide would have born no costs and possibly have had a pay off in a temporary escape or a quick less painful death.
 
It wasn't my intent to be critical of your scenario, Juan, but it's a question that often comes into my head when I read a story about crucifixion (which I do every now and then). It is said that it was among the most terrible ways to die, which seems like a statement I won't argue with strenuously. So, then, what would someone sentenced to die by crucifixion have had to lose by any act of resistance, whether it's fighting back, refusing to march to the site and having them beat you to death on the spot, suicide, or what have you? What could they do to you that was worse than what they were already going to do to you? Perhaps some (proto CF members) were looking at it as an erotic experience, though I suspect they were a minority. The most famous crucifixee was supposedly making a sacrifice in the name of God, but that was an even smaller minority. So, for most, resistance or suicide would have born no costs and possibly have had a pay off in a temporary escape or a quick less painful death.
True. In my imagination, there's a societal expectation that transcends rationality, and there's a weird, irrational barrier that makes crucifixion victims feel like if they struggle, they're making a scene, and they're better off just doing what's expected of them. They know they won't get far, they're defeated mentally, and the embarrassment of struggling or resisting without success doesn't seem like a good option. Obviously that would never be everybody, and it's not rational. But in my experience, most people are less rational than they would like to think. :)
 
But in my experience, most people are less rational than they would like to think. :)

Of course, Juan ! Otherwise, why are we (cruxgirls) here if it's not to be crucified and to imagine (and to see) us nailed to a cross ?
Since I was around ten, I imagine myself at the place of J-C when I view a Via-Crucis in the churches ...
I need of that, it's recurrent ...
So much recurrent that when I see a calvary near a road or in a cimetery, I'm immediately searching my camera to take a photo and to try to make a manip here into my thread "Anjou Calvaries" ...
I'm always in a crucifixion'quest , of course for the happiness and the love of my Judith ... I find that natural in beeing crucified for her and by her, when we're playing a crux'session, obviously roped , but totally submitted to this fate ... like a slave, in fact ...
That's why I can understand your fantasy, Juan ... which are for me not so much timeless and which are appearing , for me, like no deterrent (bob said) ...
 

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Interesting - I always considered that crucifixion actually had little deterrent value.
And here it is presented with no deterrent value whatsoever - fantastic! :)
Not exactly, but it is a little bit complicated!
Everybody kows he or she will die. Death is no deterrence as such, but it should not come too soon!

The deterrence in this story is in the urge to avoid, it will come too soon, eg by getting crucified for running away.
There could be a bet that Gaius Septimus ultimately would die before he sends you to the cross, so the practice would stop.
 
I've been sitting here for almost an hour now, my bare back against the stipes, and my arms bound outspread to the patibulum I will soon be nailed to. The man on the cross next to me still hasn't died. He looks dead most of the time, but then he gasps, moans, and tries to shift his weight. Apparently the centurion forbade them from breaking his legs.

They tore my gown down to my hips when they tied me to the cross beam, so my breasts are bare, baking in the Mediterranean sun. I'm waiting.

They're crucifying almost a hundred rebel slaves tomorrow, so they've set aside the nails they'll need, and don't want to use them for me. So I have to wait for this murderer next to me to die. Then they'll pry the spikes from his wrists and feet, hammer them straight, and drive them through my body to crucify me.

(To be continued...)
 
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